


island

by thanksroach (irnhero)



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Older Jaskier | Dandelion, early onset alzheimers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29810439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irnhero/pseuds/thanksroach
Summary: Jaskier was having a really, really good day. He woke early this morning in high spirits, a wide smile deepening the lines around his eyes and mouth from years of similar joy. Geralt made a shit joke about stamina as Jaskier climbed on top of him and the bard pinched his side playfully. “I’m fifty-six, not an octogenarian you oaf,” he said.They've retired to a cottage by the sea, just like Jaskier always wanted, but things aren't perfect.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 5





	island

**Author's Note:**

> i’m posting polished versions of some of my [febuwhump prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139258/chapters/71536530) on their own so they can have their time to shine; this was for the prompt, memory loss

Jaskier was having a really, really good day.

He woke early this morning in high spirits, a wide smile deepening the lines around his eyes and mouth from years of similar joy. Geralt made a shit joke about stamina as Jaskier climbed on top of him and the bard pinched his side playfully. “I’m fifty-six, not an octogenarian you oaf,” he said. 

They eventually drug themselves out of bed and Jaskier prepared his usual breakfast; a bit of fruit and a thick slice of bread–his own today, not the stuff from the market. He’d taken to baking their bread himself as of late. It was dreadful at first, truth be told, but he got the hang of it after a few tries. It was quite good now if a bit dense. 

Geralt suggested that they eat in the yard, so they packed up the food into a basket and pulled an old quilt from the closet, and set it all up outside in the grass. On mornings like this, their little corner of the world was like a slice of paradise. The long grass waved in a warm breeze which brought with it the salty smell of the sea from below. Perched on a short cliff, they could see the blue water from the yard.

Jaskier chattered all through their impromptu picnic about idle things. The improvement of his baking skills and the things they needed from the market next week. A letter he received from an old school friend and what he intended to write back. Geralt just listened, offering the occasional hum when necessary.

There was nothing particularly pressing for them to attend to today; such was the life of retirement. They let breakfast lag on for entirely too long and took their dear sweet time tidying away the mess. Once that was done, Geralt found himself finishing up a letter to Ciri while Jaskier read in his cushy chair by the window.

Not once all the while did Jaskier pause awkwardly between words as if they’d escaped his mind. Not once did he stop in the middle of a room and look around nervously as if he was searching for something and didn’t know what. Not once did he repeat himself as if he had no recollection of having said the same thing only moments before.

It was a good day. A damn-near perfect day so far as Geralt was concerned. Then there was a knock at the door.

Jaskier was closer to the door and hopped up to answer before Geralt could stop him. It was only Jord from up the road looking to borrow their ax, for his had broken this morning and he had firewood to split. 

“Of course, Jord!” said Jaskier, nice and neighborly. “I’ll fetch it for you, it’s just by the… by…” Jaskier’s face dropped like a stone as he stammered.  _ Fuck _ .

Geralt nudged Jaskier gently out of the way just as Jord was beginning to look very concerned indeed and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He got the ax from their own woodpile beneath one of Jaskier’s prized flower boxes and sent Jord on his way. What he saw upon returning inside tore at his heart.

Jaskier stood in the center of the sitting room wringing his hands looking so confused and flustered, almost to the point of fear. Large shifts in his routine always did this; unexpected visitors, long trips away from the house, even especially bad weather. It disturbed whatever this malady that plagued him was and muddled his thoughts, turning a good day into a bad one in a matter of minutes.

Jaskier’s eyes landed on Geralt and relief visibly flooded him, but he looked no less troubled. Geralt approached him slowly, waiting for Jaskier to reach out before folding him up in his arms. He’d learned to be cautious; sometimes his touch did more harm than good if it was too sudden.

“It’s alright,” Geralt murmured, running a hand up and down Jaskier’s back in slow, soothing motions. 

They stayed that way a long while, Geralt waiting patiently for Jaskier to return from the island in his mind while the bard clutched his shirt like a lifeline. This was one of Jaskier’s more extreme reactions; usually, he could snap himself back with relative ease. But sometimes it was just too much. Sometimes the depth of his confusion hit him hard and it was all he could do to stay afloat.

“I hate this,” Jaskier hissed, his words muffled by Geralt’s shoulder. “I hate this so fucking much.”

“I know you do.” 

Geralt hated it too. He hated seeing Jaskier so upset and unsure. He hated watching him unravel before his eyes. He hated how quickly Jaskier’s own mind could turn on him. Yennefer said it was common for aging people, this ailment, though Jaskier’s was certainly an advanced case. She’d done what she could to slow it down, but she couldn’t stop it. 

Someday sooner than Geralt cared to imagine, Jaskier would forget him and all their adventures. He would forget his songs and his poems, his own bloody name. Already, he struggled to recall details he once rattled off without pause. It would only get worse from here. And Geralt would have to watch.

“We’ll be alright, won’t we Geralt?” Jaskier asked, barely audible this time.

Geralt held him tighter, turning his face to nuzzle Jaskier's hair. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on [tumblr](https://d-andilion.tumblr.com/)


End file.
